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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031742">Kiss Me In The Dark</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/andabatae/pseuds/andabatae'>andabatae</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Politics, Angst, Closet Sex, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forbidden Love, Non-Linear Narrative, Politics, Secret Relationship, Sheev Palpatine is the Worst Grandfather Ever, Smut, Star-crossed, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:28:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031742</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/andabatae/pseuds/andabatae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When British orphan Rey learns she has a grandfather, she's plucked from obscurity and thrust into the American political spotlight. Sheev Palpatine is running for president, and taking in his long-lost orphan granddaughter is a move calculated to win him votes.</p><p>Rey's finally eating three meals a day, but she hates her new life and the gilded cage Sheev has forced her into. Desperate for connection, she befriends the only other person at a political event who looks as miserable as she is: Ben Solo. Unfortunately, his mother is running for president against Sheev.</p><p>As Rey and Ben's relationship heats up, the star-crossed lovers run the risk of getting caught... and losing everything.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>746</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Perfect Date - Pink Ladies Spring Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Kiss Me In The Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandercrouton/gifts">commandercrouton</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was inspired by the lyrics for "Kiss Me In The Dark" by Randy Rogers Band! I had a great time writing it. Hope you like it!</p><p>Trigger warning: Palpatine is verbally and emotionally abusive to Rey in this fic. He is not a nice man! But everything will be okay.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><p>Rey gasps, head tipping back to thump against the motel wall. There’s just enough artificial light coming through the cracked curtain to highlight the ugly yellow wallpaper, patterned with velvety curlicues that have been worn down by time and neglect. It’ll be their first time doing this in a bed, and though Rey wishes the room was nicer, most local hotels are booked for a political conference.</p><p>Ben's lips press against her neck, and then comes the sting of teeth. Rey jolts against him, hips pressing forward. He’s hard under his dress slacks, and for a blissful moment their bodies rub together.</p><p>“Don’t leave a mark,” she says in a breathy voice.</p><p>He exhales against her neck, a rush of warm air, then bites down harder. Rey moans at the delicious pain. Normally he backs off the second she reminds him of the rules of these encounters, but tonight he seems wilder than normal. “Ben,” she gasps. “People will see.”</p><p>“Let them fucking see.” He sucks a sensitive spot on her throat while his hand lifts to envelope one of her breasts. He touches her roughly, squeezing and massaging, then pinching her nipple to the point of pain.</p><p>Rey groans. She likes how hard he’s using her, but panic swirls in her chest. The more intense this gets, the less they’ll be able to hide it. “We can’t let them see,” she says as he twists one of her tortured nipples, sending pleasure shooting between her legs.</p><p>“Why not?” he demands, breaking away to hold her face in both hands. His eyes dart between hers, searching for answers</p><p>“Because… because…”</p><p>“Why not?” he repeats, resting his forehead against hers. His breath puffs raggedly over her lips.</p><p>“Because we <em> can’t.” </em></p><p>“Oh, Rey.” He steals a quick, hard kiss from her. “I’m starting to think there’s very little we can’t do.”</p><p>~~~</p><p>She first sees him at a political fundraiser.</p><p>“What are they doing here?” her grandfather demands under his breath.</p><p>Rey looks across the room, trying to pick out who’s earned Sheev Palpatine’s pique this day. “Who?”</p><p>“The Organa-Solos,” he spits, as if the name is distasteful. “They should know better.”</p><p>Rey’s brow crinkles. She’s new to the political networking scene, so she has to scramble to attach history to the name. While her grandfather has been a big name in American politics for years, she spent most of her life in British foster care, separated from any sort of legacy. When Sheev Palpatine plucked her from obscurity six months ago, it felt like a dream.</p><p>Now it feels like a nightmare.</p><p>“Don’t the Organa-Solos fund all sorts of great community initiatives?” she asks, trying to understand why he’s upset. She’s seen them in the society columns, but she doesn’t know much about them, other than that they’re rich.</p><p>“Idiot girl,” Sheev snaps. “Leia only does all that charity work because she’s about to announce her candidacy for president.”</p><p>“Oh.” No wonder he's upset; Sheev announced his candidacy a month ago. Rey takes a fresh look at the Organa-Solos. They look innocuous enough: a short woman with graying hair drawn up in a crown braid, a tall, roguish-looking older man in a leather jacket, and…</p><p>
  <em> And. </em>
</p><p>The person trailing behind them is… something. Tall, broad, and brooding, with midnight hair and a long, somber face. His shoulders strain against the fabric of his suit coat, and his lips are pressed together in a tight line. Whoever he is, he doesn’t want to be here. Rey sympathizes.</p><p>“Who’s with her?” she asks as casually as she can manage.</p><p>Sheev scoffs. “Her worthless husband, Han. He’s blue-collar through and through. Supposedly it was a love match, but I think it was a ploy to get the votes of the ‘common’ people.” He says the word <em> common </em> with disdain, and Rey stiffens at this reminder that she, too, falls under the umbrella of <em> common people. </em> Sheev may have lifted her up into the echelons of Washington, DC, society, but he never lets her forget she spent her formative years in a junkyard, scavenging for scraps and stripping cars for parts.</p><p>“And the man with them?”</p><p>“Their son, Ben Solo.” Sheev narrows his eyes. “Years back, he made noises about breaking away from the Organa-Solo legacy, but in the end, he ran back to mommy. What a coward. Stay away from all of them, you hear me?"</p><p>"Yes, grandfather." Rey looks at Ben Solo. He doesn’t give off the aura of a coward, but then again, she can’t explain what aura he does give off. His expression isn’t quite angry, nor is it sad, but it definitely isn’t happy, either. There’s a tension to his body that speaks of repressed emotion, and his eyes dart around the room as if searching for an exit.</p><p>Then those eyes lock on her, and it’s as if all the air and sound are sucked out of the room.</p><p>Rey stares, trapped by his dark, intense gaze. He’s beautiful, she realizes. Her heart rate speeds up as the eye contact lasts long past what’s polite.</p><p>“What?” her grandfather says.</p><p>Rey snaps out of her reverie. “What?”</p><p>“You said something was beautiful.”</p><p>She said that out loud? Rey’s cheeks burn, but she plasters on her political smile, the one her grandfather started training her in the moment she arrived on his doorstep. “The decorations,” she says, pointing out a burst of brightly-colored flowers.</p><p>Sheev scoffs. “Typical woman. Could care less about politics but loves flowers.” His tone is cutting, and Rey flinches. This is just one more area in which she disappoints him. “Good thing you don’t need to talk politics,” her grandfather continues. “Your job is to smile and look pretty, you hear me?”</p><p>“I hear you.” Rey casts her eyes to the floor, ignoring Ben Solo, whose stare she fancies she can still feel against her skin.</p><p>This is her job, isn’t it? The entire reason she’s now living in a mansion, rather than a shack. The reason she has three meals a day, rather than one. She’s Sheev Palpatine’s charity case, the sob story that obsessed the media for weeks. A lost granddaughter, a touching family reunion, and the transformation of a scrappy orphan into political royalty—all right before Sheev announced his bid for president.</p><p>Rey isn’t royalty, not really. That’s all Sheev. She’s an ornament, a pawn to be used however and whenever he wishes.</p><p>Someday soon he’ll want her to marry for advantage, like it’s the bloody 1700s or something. She knows because he told her so. “You’re good for three things,” her grandfather said the week she moved into his mansion. “A pretty face, a tragic backstory, and a connection to the working class.” Then his lips curved in a sneer. “Maybe four, if we’re counting what’s between your legs.”</p><p>Rey has long since resigned herself to being her grandfather’s puppet. It’s better than starving, isn’t it? Better than whatever job she could have got with mediocre grades—she can thank the starvation and overwork at her foster father’s junkyard for that. Rey’s smart, and she tried hard in school, but she fell asleep during classes more often than not.</p><p>Sheev eyes her up and down. "Your hair needs work, and you look like an ironing board in that dress. Do better tomorrow."</p><p>She clenches her jaw and nods.</p><p>He sighs. "Sometimes I think having a granddaughter is more trouble than it's worth. I'd better get some likeability points out of you."<br/>
<br/>
"Grandfather, I was wondering something," she says, dredging up the courage to ask the question that has been on her mind for months. "Did you know about me? Before this year, I mean."</p><p>He snorts. "Of course I did. You think my son could have a daughter and I wouldn't know where she was?"</p><p>"Then why didn't you come get me before?" she asks, struggling not to let her anger and betrayal show on her face. "Why did you let me grow up the way I did?" Sheev is a monster, but so was Unkar Plutt, and at least she could have grown up with food and a solid roof over her head.<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs. "It wasn't good for optics at the time."</p><p>"I see." And Rey does, she really does. No one's ever seen Rey for who she is, only what she can do for them. A lost orphan, reunited with her grandfather, is a better story than a plain old granddaughter raised from birth.</p><p>“You aren’t smiling,” her grandfather says, interrupting her introspection.</p><p>Rey forces a smile. “My apologies, grandfather.”</p><p>She can do this. She can be the perfect tool for his aspirations. There’s no point wanting anything beyond what she already has; she knows she’s lucky as it is. No staring at handsome strangers, no dreaming of a life beyond what’s been provided to her. This is as close as anyone gets to living a fairy tale, and the original fairy tales were full of suffering, anyway.</p><p>But as Sheev leads her towards a cluster of major donors, Rey can’t stop thinking about Ben Solo’s eyes.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Ben backs her towards the bed, lips glued to hers. Rey kisses him back desperately, hands tangled in his hair. It’s like a dance, this steady advance and retreat. They’ve gotten good at it over the last two months. They can only meet during stolen moments, but there have been enough of those moments to keep the fire lit.</p><p>Rey wonders, sometimes, if the fire would last if this wasn’t forbidden. If Ben didn’t feel like he was stealing something with every caress. She would feel the same about him, she’s sure of it, but even though she’s sick with wanting him, the insecure orphan in her head wonders if he just enjoys the challenge of having the unobtainable. But then he'll kiss her or whisper something sweet against her temple, and all Rey's doubts will wash away, replaced by a burning certainty that this is the passion of a lifetime.</p><p>Even if she can't have it for a lifetime.</p><p>The backs of her knees hit the bed, and Ben shoves her shoulders to topple her back. She bounces on the cheap mattress, the tacky comforter scratching against the exposed skin of her shoulders. She doesn’t care. This bed is better than anything she had growing up, and she’ll take Ben however she can have him.</p><p>She needs all of him tonight. She wants this memory to last.</p><p>He reaches under her skirt and rips down her underwear. He doesn’t even spare a look at them—too bad, since Rey picked the black lace out specially for him—before tossing them over his shoulder. She spreads her legs, ready for him to take her. There’s always been a sense of desperate urgency to their sex. It’s a feeling Rey knows well from a life of deprivation, like eating a treat that could be taken away at the last second. In this case, it’s true: what they have can’t last.</p><p>But Ben doesn’t unzip his slacks and pull his cock out. He doesn’t fuck into her roughly, the way he often does. He stares down at her, eyes flicking from her pussy to her face.</p><p>Rey rocks her hips. “What are you waiting for?”</p><p>Ben doesn’t say anything. Instead, he sinks to his knees beside the bed.</p><p>~~~</p><p>“You look miserable.”</p><p>Rey startles at the deep voice. She thought she was relatively well-hidden here, behind a potted fern at the edge of the room, but someone has found her. She turns, bracing herself to confront yet another donor with a political agenda to push…</p><p>...And freezes at the sight of Ben Solo standing a few feet away.</p><p>He’s dressed in another impeccable black suit, and his hands are shoved in his pockets. There’s a faint smile on his lips, as if they’re sharing a private joke, but his eyes burn just the way she remembers.</p><p>“Excuse me?” Rey asks when she’s recovered her voice.</p><p>“I said, you look miserable.” He doesn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest at bringing up such a taboo topic. The only acceptable personas to wear at these events are smiling sycophancy or sophisticated boredom. “It’s okay,” he says when Rey just gapes at him. “I’m miserable, too. I'm Ben, by the way.”</p><p>At that, she huffs in genuine amusement. It’s nothing like her political laughs. “Rey, she says. "And careful, I’ve heard even frowning at one of these galas can cost our candidates two to three favorability points.”</p><p>“Our candidates,” he says. “That’s a funny way to say ‘our relatives.’”</p><p>Rey’s cheeks heat. She looks away from him, back out at the dance floor, where Sheev is promenading with a diamond-bedecked woman. “Pardon me,” she murmurs. “I’m rather new to the concept.”</p><p>Her background isn’t exactly a secret. Every time she makes a gaff, no matter how slight, the press have a field day, after which Sheev shouts at her for hours. “Little Orphan Annie,” the papers call her. Adorable, but too uncultured to know better.</p><p>“Hey,” Ben says, brushing her bare upper arm with his fingers. Rey shivers at the contact. “I wasn’t trying to make fun.”</p><p>“No?” Rey asks. “That would be a first.” Maybe she’s had one too many glasses of champagne, or maybe she’s just sick and tired of being trotted out like a show pony, because this is the most honest she’s been with anyone in the last seven months.</p><p>Ben studies her like a puzzle he’d like to figure out. “I feel it, too,” he finally says. “The pressure that comes with being an heir to the throne.”</p><p>Rey scoffs. “You Americans don’t know a thing about thrones.” Sheev’s aspirations seem to revolve around the television set and how many minutes he can spend on camera. Not that British politicians are any better, but Rey’s British pride, no matter how undeserved, is one of the only things of her own she still has left.<br/>
<br/>
“Metaphorically speaking.” Ben glances at the dancing, then back to her, and she recognizes that move. The casual ‘is anyone listening in who could hurt me?’ look. “You aren’t the only black sheep being trotted out for votes, you know.”</p><p>She scoffs. “Oh, sure. Ben Solo, political consultant, darling of the news commentators. I’m sure you’re quite the black sheep.” She’s watched him on TV a lot these past few weeks, listening to his incisive arguments, belly tightening every time he gets particularly impassioned.</p><p>He gives her a funny look. “You don’t know?”</p><p>“Don’t know what?”</p><p>“You really are new,” he mutters.</p><p>Rey stiffens. “You mean ignorant.”</p><p>He isn’t fazed by her irritation. “No, I mean you haven’t been around long enough to hear the rumors.” He moves his hands in front of him like he's outlining a marquee. “Ben Solo: juvenile delinquent, anger management issues, in rehab at twenty.” He looks unruffled, but Rey has been staring so intently at him that she notices the extra tension in his expression. “The tabloids were well-fed for a few years.”</p><p>“Oh.” She swallows hard. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”</p><p>“You don’t have to be sorry.” His lips quirk again. “It was a decade ago, and nothing can change it at this point. I’m just saying, I know what it’s like to become a talking point. You wouldn’t believe the ‘prodigal son’ coverage Leia got when she welcomed me back into the fold.”</p><p>It doesn’t escape her that he calls his mother by her first name, just as she calls Sheev by his. In private, at least. In public, he prefers ‘grandfather.’ “That sounds less compelling than ‘lost orphan’ coverage, I have to say.”</p><p>He chuckles. “Yeah, well, we can’t all be lucky enough to have beautiful relatives squirrelled away in English backwaters.” When she gapes at him, he winces. “Shit, sorry. That was rude. I know your childhood sucked.”</p><p>That’s not what catches Rey’s attention, though. “You think I’m beautiful?” The words rush out of her before she can think better of it.</p><p>He looks at her like she’s a lunatic. “Well, obviously.”</p><p>Rey blinks at him, stunned beyond speech. Her foster father, Unkar Plutt, mocked her mercilessly growing up, and being malnourished did little for her appearance. She has proper food now, but she isn’t traditionally feminine by any means, and while Sheev approves of her face—for the most part—he has notes on everything else, from her weight to her hair to her posture.</p><p>Ben’s expression softens. He lifts a hand as if to touch her cheek but hesitates a few inches away. “Does no one ever tell you?” he says quietly.</p><p>Rey shakes her head, eyes wide. Whatever’s happening here is beyond her experience; all she knows is that she wants to know everything about Ben Solo and tell him everything about her.</p><p>His fingertips graze over her cheekbone, a touch light as the brush of a butterfly’s wing. Then his hand drops to his side again and clenches into a fist. “Well, they should.”</p><p>They stare at each other, caught in another endless, weightless moment. The sounds of the gala fade away.<br/>
<br/>
Rey knows then that she’s in a world of trouble.</p><p>~~~</p><p>“I don’t do this enough,” Ben says as he stares between her legs. The room is dim, but the slice of orange parking lot light and the green glow of the clock cast enough illumination on his features for Rey to make out his expression. He looks… enraptured.</p><p>Hungry.</p><p>“You did it at the Natural History Museum,” Rey points out breathily. It’s one of her favorite memories—sneaking into the dinosaur wing, then lifting her floor-length gown so Ben could get on his knees and eat her out.</p><p>Their assignations are always like that—fast, frantic moments of pleasure seized in the precious seconds when the two of them can sneak away from their families. If the press ever found out, it would be a disaster, but they’re both too addicted to stop.</p><p>Rey will stop it, though. She has to.</p><p>“Not for long enough,” Ben growls, and then his mouth is on her, and Rey loses the ability to speak.</p><p>~~~</p><p>“Fancy seeing you here.”</p><p>Rey’s grinning before she even turns around. “I know, it’s quite a shock,” she says, looking up at Ben. “Who would have thought we’d end up like this?”</p><p>It’s become a joke between them, how often they find each other lurking in corners at various events. Even though Leia and Sheev are political rivals, this city can be annoyingly small sometimes, and they end up at many of the same galas, fundraisers, and political dinners.</p><p>This time, it’s a networking event at an art gallery. Rey’s been hiding behind a marble bust for the last ten minutes, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t hoping for this outcome. She’ll have to return to Sheev’s side in fifteen minutes or so, but she already knows these fifteen minutes are going to be the best of the night.</p><p>Ben sidles in next to her. This gallery is technically not part of the event—Rey had to climb over a velvet rope to get here—but it never hurts to be cautious. Even being seen chatting could be risky, considering how eagerly the media latches on to any kind of scandal. Rey already knows her friendship with Ben would be warped into something salacious.</p><p>Not that she doesn’t want it to be salacious. She really, really does, but she isn’t sure how to take that next step. She isn’t sure she <em> should. </em></p><p>“Did you try the hors d’ouevres?” Ben asks.</p><p>Rey rolls her eyes. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”</p><p>He laughs. “Okay, obviously you did. What was your verdict?”</p><p>She shrugs. “All food is good food.” Growing up the way she did, she couldn’t afford to discriminate. Her palate will never be as refined as Ben’s.</p><p>“The shrimp were rubbery, the cocktail sauce was sub-par, and the beef was overcooked,” Ben says flatly.</p><p>Rey snorts. “Such a snob.”</p><p>“It’s not my fault you don’t have taste.”</p><p>Over the last month, they’ve had seven conversations, and each one has been better than the last. They’ve grown so comfortable with each other that Rey doesn’t mind when he twits her for her background, just as he doesn’t mind when she teases him for his. “Excuse me for growing up in tragedy, good sir,” she says. “Perhaps the silver spoon you were born with affected your taste buds.”</p><p>He laughs outright, then claps a hand over his mouth when the sound echoes in the empty gallery. “You can’t pull the tragic orphan card every time we have a disagreement,” he says.</p><p>“Why not?” Rey winks at him. “It works.”</p><p>He shakes his head, chuckling softly. “Someday I’m going to take you to a fancy dinner,” he says. “I’ll order you something ludicrously expensive and really, truly delicious, so you’ll understand where I’m coming from.”</p><p>Rey’s heart flutters at the thought of going to dinner with him. It isn’t possible, of course, but the fantasy is too compelling; she has to live in it for a moment. “So long as you agree to go to some horrible, greasy dive bar with me next.”</p><p>It’s so nice when he grins. His eyes crinkle, and she gets to see his slightly snaggled teeth. It makes him look boyish and sweet, nothing like the brooding, sophisticated persona he puts on at these events. It’s his mask, she knows, just as hers is a perpetual false smile, but she can’t help but want to see the man beneath it. “Sounds awful,” he says. “But I’ll go anywhere, if it means I get to be with you.”<br/>
<br/>
The silence that falls between them is heavy with unspoken words. Unspoken <em> wants. </em> “Ben,” Rey breathes, pleading with him with her eyes. <em> Hold me. Kiss me. Be with me. </em> And also <em> Don’t. This isn’t safe. I’m scared. </em></p><p>“Rey,” he says, and then he’s leaning in, and his lips are pressed against hers, and Rey realizes there's no point resisting. It was always going to end like this.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Ben licks her with purpose, tongue sliding over her labia before lifting to circle her clit. It’s gentle—stimulating, but not enough to get her off fast and hard, the way they normally have to do it.</p><p>Rey whimpers, overwhelmed by the sensation. She tugs at his hair, trying to get him to go faster. “Ben…”</p><p>“What?” he asks, looking up at her from between her legs.</p><p>“Harder.” She pulls his hair again, and he groans and rests his forehead against her inner thigh. He likes when she does that, although she always has to be careful not to mess up his styled locks.</p><p>“Why are you trying to rush this?” he asks.</p><p>“I—I—” Rey looks down at him, unable to articulate the feeling swelling in her chest. The need has an edge of panic. He’s just kneeling there, looking up at her, swiping his tongue out in little kitten licks while he waits for her explanation.</p><p>“Rey,” he says, voice rumbling against her pussy, “I want to take my time with you.”</p><p>Her eyes well with tears. She squeezes them shut and shakes her head.</p><p>“Has anyone ever done that for you, Rey? Made it last, made it so good time blurs?”</p><p>She shakes her head again, still unable to look at him.</p><p>“Well, I’m going to.” He kisses her sex again, then stands up in seeming contradiction to his promise. Then he’s reaching for her shoulders, helping her sit up so he can grab the zipper at the base of her neck and pull it down. “And we’re both going to be naked while I do it.”</p><p>~~~</p><p>“Hurry,” Rey gasps against Ben’s ear as he fumbles at the zipper of his slacks. They’re in a supply closet, and her elbow bangs against a shelf full of cleaning agents as she struggles to lift her skirt higher.</p><p>A hallway away, their families are gathered with other political elites for cocktails after a stuffy talk about bipartisanship. Rey has maybe ten minutes before Sheev will wonder why she’s taking so long in the bathroom.</p><p>“Rey,” Ben gasps as she reaches out and grabs his dick. She’s felt it before, that time she sucked him off in the National Archives, but it somehow feels even bigger than it did then. Hot and heavy, so wide around her hand barely encompasses him. Her hand shakes as she guides his cock towards her.</p><p>Ben hooks a hand under her knee and pulls it up, opening her wider. She’s in heels, but she’s still on tiptoes because of his prodigious height. He bends his knees, getting lower, and their fingers tangle as they position his cock against her.</p><p>Then he’s pushing in, a blunt, unyielding pressure that makes Rey gasp. It hurts a bit—there was little time for foreplay—but she embraces the pain. This is proof that she’s wanted, and when she feels the ache between her thighs tomorrow, she’ll remember.</p><p>“You feel so good,” Ben moans. His warm breath puffs against her ear, and she shudders as he slides in that final inch. She’s pinned on his dick, trapped by the shelves digging into her back and his warm, solid frame in front. “Is this all right?”</p><p>She nods, even though her body hasn’t quite adjusted to him yet. There isn’t time to wait. “Do it, Ben,” she says. “Fuck me.”</p><p>He grunts and starts to move, bending his knees to give him leverage to ram up into her. Every deep thrust hits a spot that feels exquisite to the point of pain, and Rey stifles her moans in his suit coat.</p><p>“Shit,” she says, pulling back from his shoulder.</p><p>“What?” Ben asks, stilling instantly.</p><p>“I got lipstick on your coat.” She can’t see it in the dark closet, but she knows there will be red residue on the black fabric, accompanied by the dampness of her spit.</p><p>“Fuck the coat,” he says vehemently. “Bite down, Rey.”</p><p>The order is accompanied by another hard thrust, and Rey gives in. She wraps her arms tighter around his neck, then buries her face in the soft fabric between his neck and shoulder. The fabric is too thick to properly latch on, but she sinks her teeth into him as best she can.</p><p>Ben fucks her harder, his own grunts a little too loud in the enclosed space. She would shush him, but she can’t think past the pleasure of what he’s doing to her. She’s never been worked like this, relentless and even. The hand holding her leg up squeezes so hard she knows she’ll bruise, but Rey wants every ounce of pain and pleasure. She wants to wring every drop of sensation from this moment. She wants the memory written on her skin.</p><p>“Fuck, Rey,” he says. “Can you touch your clit?” His other hand is pressed against her lower back, holding her tight against him.</p><p>Rey obliges, working her hand between them so she can rub herself. The spark of pleasure makes her moan, and she bites down harder to avoid making any noise that might betray their presence here.</p><p>“So good,” he praises, soft and low in her ear. “You’re perfect, Rey. I can’t fucking believe you’re letting me do this.”</p><p>She wants to tell him she isn’t <em> letting </em> him do anything—she’s giving herself freely and gladly—but she can’t speak.</p><p>Their bodies move together, the rhythm growing frenetic as they both near their peaks. A bottle of cleaning spray tumbles off the shelf, crashing onto the floor. A shelf groans as her shoulders smack against it. They’re making too much noise, someone will find them…</p><p>But as pleasure gathers in her belly, hot and urgent, Rey finds she doesn’t care. All that matters is Ben in her arms, in her mouth, in her body. All that matters is the starburst behind her eyelids as her body spasms around him and the orgasm sizzles through her like lightning.</p><p>He finishes in her, and their mingled, loud panting fills the air of this tiny closet. They clutch each other tightly for a moment, and then Rey nudges Ben’s shoulder, pushing him away. “I have to get back,” she whispers.</p><p>He pulls out, producing a handkerchief from somewhere to dab between her legs. Rey takes it from him, cleaning off what she can of his semen. The rest can pool in her underwear. She’ll have to rinse the pair out herself so Sheev’s housemaid doesn’t see it and report back to him, but it’ll be one more reminder that this happened. That it was real.</p><p>“Rey,” Ben says. His voice wavers, and he clears his throat. “That was…”</p><p>“I know.” She lowers her dress, straightening it so the seams lie evenly against her sides. She stands on tiptoes, meaning to kiss his cheek, but thinks better of it at the last second. Bad enough he has lipstick on his coat—it’ll be worse if anyone spots him with lipstick on his face. She settles for rubbing her cheek against his briefly, like an affectionate cat. “But we have to go.”</p><p>“Can’t we… talk about it?”</p><p>Rey wants to, she really does, but her mental clock tells her time is up. If she doesn’t get back to Sheev right now, there’s going to be hell to pay. “Next time,” she promises, reaching for the door handle. After listening to make sure no one’s coming, she peeks her head out and finds a deserted hallway. “I’m going now,” she says. “You’ll want to do something about your coat before you come back.”</p><p>“Rey—”</p><p>But Rey can’t wait, not for a second. She can’t risk losing her stable home and three meals a day, no matter how many unfortunate strings are attached to them. She smiles back at Ben, then closes the door behind her and heads towards the reception.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Rey can’t stop trembling. True to his word, Ben stripped her naked. He even took off the sapphire necklace and earrings Sheev insisted she wear to the president’s banquet tonight, and then he took the pins out of her hair and sifted through it with his long fingers.</p><p>“There,” he says, looking down at her with fire in his eyes. “That’s how it always should have been. Just you and me, with nothing between us.”</p><p>He’s positioned her on the bed with her head on the pillow, and she feels absurdly like a bride on her wedding night, even though nothing could be further from the truth. Her heart races as she watches him strip off his bow tie. He leaves it hanging around his neck as he unbuttons his shirt. He’s moving slowly, never looking away from her as he strips off his high-class armor, and Rey needs him to go faster. <em> There isn’t time, </em> a frantic voice in her head says. <em> You have to get home soon. </em></p><p>“Ben,” she says. “I only have an hour…”</p><p>Sheev thinks she’s with Gwendoline Phasma, a politician’s daughter she’s become casually friendly with after Sheev approved the connection. It’s risky enough adding another person to her lies—what if Sheev questions Gwen?—and Rey doesn’t want to imagine what might happen to her if she comes home late.</p><p>Ben’s in her face before she fully registers the movement. He leans over her, hands braced on either side of her head. “Fuck your timeline,” he snarls. “Fuck running out on me the first chance you get.”</p><p>“I’m not running,” Rey says. “I have no choice—”</p><p>“There’s always a choice.” Ben kisses her neck fiercely, leaving another mark. Rey’s going to be wearing scarves for the next week.</p><p>“For you, maybe.” Her eyes bead with tears again as the panicked monster in her chest claws to get out. “You grew up in this world. You lose nothing if we’re found out.”</p><p>“And you?” he demands. “What do you lose that’s so great? Your piece of shit grandfather? Smiling for people you hate like some kind of Stepford Wife?” When Rey makes a noise of protest and tries to sit up, he pushes her back down on the bed. “No. Look at me, Rey. Don’t run.”</p><p>“You don’t know what it’s like,” she says, anger joining the fear and desire still swirling through her. “You don’t understand.”</p><p>“Then make me understand, Rey.” His jaw works, and his eyes look tormented in the dim light. His lips tremble. “Please.”</p><p>She swallows hard. This is it, the thing she didn’t want to say. The agonizing truth she wanted to fuck out of her mind for a brief hour before going back to her regimented, miserable life, her gilded cage. “I’m sorry, Ben,” she says. “After tonight, we can’t do this again.”</p><p>~~~</p><p>“I know you’ve been seeing him.”</p><p>Rey freezes at the cold words, spoken sotto voce just behind her. She turns slowly, champagne glass clenched in her fist. Her grandfather is standing just there, looking impeccable in his sharp-edged suit with his thinning white hair combed back. He’s smiling, but his odd yellow-ish eyes are brimming with fury.</p><p>“Excuse me?” Rey says. Her hand trembles, and the champagne nearly spills.</p><p>His eyes flick down. “For God’s sake, hold that glass correctly,” he snaps. “We’re at a dinner hosted by the fucking president, yet you still have the manners of a barnyard animal.”</p><p>Rey swallows hard and shifts her grip. “Apologies, grandfather.” She prefers saying it like that: <em> apologies, </em> rather than <em> I’m sorry. </em> Like she’s stating a noun, rather than admitting to another in an endless series of fuckups. “What were you saying?”</p><p>“The Solo boy. I saw you talking to him at the ambassador’s dinner last week.”</p><p>Rey’s entire body goes cold, quickly followed by a hot flush of panic. She feels dizzy. “I talk to all sorts of people,” she says. It’s only partially a lie—she tries to nod vapidly at several of her grandfather’s closest allies at every event so she’ll have some proof that she’s working to further his cause. “I was just being polite.”</p><p>“He was whispering in your ear. You were laughing.” Sheev is still furious, and the contrast between his polite public smile and the venom in his tone is disconcerting.</p><p>“What’s wrong with laughing?” Normally she wouldn’t dare to argue with her grandfather, but the threat of losing the only thing she cares about in the entire world sends adrenaline racing through her.</p><p>“He’s the enemy,” Sheev spits. “And you were looking at him like a filthy slut desperate for her next fuck.”</p><p>Rey recoils. “It-it isn’t like that,” she stammers.</p><p>Sheev laughs, loud enough that it garners a few curious looks. “Laugh right now,” he says softly. “Laugh or I kick you out on the street where you belong.”</p><p>Rey laughs, high and uneven, but apparently it’s convincing enough, because the onlookers smile, then look away again.</p><p>“I thought you’d deny it,” he says, “which is why I hired someone to keep an eye on you. Imagine my surprise when he reported that you’ve disappeared into a bathroom or closet with Ben Solo at the last two events.”</p><p>Rey freezes like a rabbit caught in the sights of a predator. Her skin crawls, and her stomach churns with nausea. What she has with Ben is special; she can’t stand it being tainted by this cruel, miserable man.</p><p>“Don’t have anything to say?” Sheev asks. He reaches out and grabs her hand, cradling it in his in a gesture that would be affectionate if his fingers weren’t digging bruises into her wrist. “No denials from my slut of a granddaughter?”</p><p>“I’m not a slut,” Rey says, voice trembling. “We’re friends, that’s all.”</p><p>Sheev squeezes her wrist so hard she winces. “No, you’re ungrateful gutter trash,” he says, low and deadly. His yellowed eyes bore into her, shredding her apart. “I gave you a home, food, money, a reputation. I <em> made </em> you, Rey, and this is how you repay me? By cozying up with the enemy?” He shakes his head. “It ends now. You will never speak to him or so much as look at him ever again.”</p><p>“Or what?” Rey asks with more courage than she would have guessed was in her. The last thing she wants is to be penniless and starving again, but Ben is…</p><p>There aren’t enough words to explain what he is to her.</p><p>“Or I'll send you back to England with nothing but the clothes on your back. Or maybe,” Sheev said, eyes glittering with malice, “I'll send you somewhere else entirely. Imagine the sympathy votes I’ll get. The heartbroken grandfather, reunited with his only heir, only to have her torn from him cruelly a few months later.”</p><p>“What… what do you mean?” Rey knows what he means, though. Deep down she knows it, in that same place she knew that if she ever stopped being useful to Unkar Plutt in his junkyard, he’d find other, worse uses for her. She feels like she might faint.</p><p>“It would be an accident, of course,” Sheev says. “Something suitably dramatic, to keep the tabloids interested. A closed casket funeral, to keep them guessing.”</p><p>Rey swallows hard. She knows he’ll do it, and she knows he’ll get away with it. “I’m sorry,” she says, forcing the words out. “It was a mistake.”</p><p>Sheev eyes her like a hawk. “Or maybe he should have the accident. I’d hate to boost Leia’s campaign in any way, but it could be arranged.”</p><p>Rey’s shoulders slump in defeat. Whatever happens to her, she can’t let Ben be harmed. He’s good and kind and… and worth anything. No matter the cost to Rey. “All right,” she says softly. “I won’t see him again.”</p><p>“Good,” Sheev says. “Go straight home after this dinner. I don’t want to see your face again until the benefit tomorrow night.”</p><p>Rey wants to weep. Tonight… tonight was supposed to be a romantic night with Ben. He booked a hotel—nothing fancy, but somewhere private, where they could take their time. It seemed to matter to him a lot, that they take their time with this at least once. <em> “You’re always running, Rey,” </em> he said a week ago, when they made the arrangements. “You leave, and I’m left wishing for more of you. I want to hold you afterwards. I’ve never even seen you fully naked.” He looked so desperate then that she wasn't able to say no.</p><p>“I have drinks with Gwen tonight,” she reminds him. That alibi was in place days ago. If she can’t be with Ben ever again, she’s going to seize one last night with him. “You want her father to endorse your campaign, don’t you?”</p><p>Sheev narrows his eyes at her. “Fine,” he says. “One drink with Phasma. Home by midnight.”</p><p>Rey releases a shuddering breath and nods. “Yes, grandfather.”</p><p>“I’ve given you too long a leash,” he says, shaking his head. “You need a firmer hand. Believe me, I have no problem providing that.” He squeezes her wrist one more time before releasing her. “Enjoy the rest of the dinner.”</p><p>Rey watches him walk away to a cluster of senators. He’s smiling like nothing’s wrong, and it frightens Rey that he can be one thing on the surface and another thing deep underneath. She is, too—they all are, to some extent—but no one's like him. For the first time, she realizes she may never get out from under his thumb. She imagined going to college after the campaign, maybe finding a job, unless Sheev forced a marriage on her early. Now, though…</p><p>Now she wonders if she’ll survive him at all.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Ben pins her to the bed, hands pressing hers into the stiff white sheets. “What?” he demands. His eyes are wild; he looks like he might explode at any moment.</p><p>Rey isn’t afraid of him, though, even though she’s spent her entire life around men who explode. Somehow she knows, on a bone-deep level, that Ben would never, ever harm her.</p><p>She loves him.</p><p>It’s a bitter realization to have on their last night together. She closes her eyes, unable to look at his achingly beautiful face while she says what needs to be said. “It’s too risky. It’s smarter to stop now, before someone gets hurt.” Her voice only wobbles a bit: a small victory, she supposes.</p><p>“Before someone gets hurt? What the fuck do you think you’re doing now?”</p><p>Rey flinches at the anger in his voice, but she doesn’t open her eyes.</p><p>“Look at me,” Ben commands. When Rey shakes her head, hair dragging over the pillow, he releases one of her wrists to cradle her jaw. “Look at me, Rey.”</p><p>Her eyelids flutter open. She can’t resist him; that’s the problem that got them into this mess in the first place.</p><p>His brows are drawn together, and he’s working his jaw in that way she’s come to recognize, like he’s chewing his feelings. “Where is this coming from?” he asks.</p><p>Rey wants to tell him the truth, but she doesn’t know what Ben will do when he hears it. She couldn’t stand it if he ended up in danger, too. “I’m being practical,” she says.</p><p>“Bullshit.” He spits the word, but his hand remains gentle on her jaw. The opposite of Sheev, who mixes honeyed words with violence. “If you were practical, you wouldn’t have started this to begin with.”</p><p>“I didn’t start it,” Rey argues. “You kissed me—”</p><p>“<em>We </em> started it,” he says. “Together. And if we’re ending it, we’ll end it together. But excuse me if I’m confused, because this is coming out of <em> nowhere—” </em></p><p>“Not out of nowhere,” Rey says. She bats the hand at her jaw away, then tugs on the hand he’s pinned down until he lets her go. He backs off, kneeling on the bed beside her while she sits up. It doesn’t escape her that she’s completely naked while he’s still mostly clothed. She shivers, feeling vulnerable in a way she doesn’t like. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”</p><p>“Then why agree to meet me tonight?” he demands. “Why let me book a hotel room? Why come here and pretend… pretend…” His voice cracks, and he looks away. His Adam’s apple bobs. “Why pretend you cared?” he whispers.</p><p>It’s too much for Rey. Her heart feels like one big bruise, and her eyes have been prickling with unshed tears since her talk with Sheev earlier that night. All she wants is to keep him safe, but God damn it, this hurts. “I care,” she says as tears start sliding down her cheeks. “I care so much, Ben.”</p><p>“Then why?” he asks. “Why are you doing this to us?”</p><p>“Because I don’t want to watch you die!” she shouts, then claps a hand to her mouth. She didn’t mean to say that, but she isn’t thinking clearly. All she knows is that it <em> hurts. </em></p><p>Ben’s expression transforms from agony to confusion. “What are you talking about?”</p><p>Rey shakes her head. “Nothing.” She tries to scramble off the bed, but Ben stops her. His big, gentle hands hold her upper arms, and even though she could break free if she really wanted to, she can’t bring herself to do it.</p><p>“Rey,” Ben says urgently. “Tell me.”</p><p>“He knows.” The words scrape her throat raw.</p><p>Ben’s brow furrows. “Who?”</p><p>“Sheev.” Rey’s shoulders droop as she tries to curl in on herself, but Ben’s hold keeps her upright. “He hired someone to watch me. He knows what we’re doing.”</p><p>“That bastard,” he hisses. “He treats you like you’re his property.”</p><p>“I am his property,” Rey says bitterly. “He made me. He can unmake me, too.”</p><p>“No,” Ben says, squeezing her upper arms. “No one owns you. You’re a legal adult; you can leave him at any time…”</p><p>“And do what?” she asks. “Live on the streets? He already promised to kick me out with only the clothes on my back, and that’s the best-case scenario.”</p><p>“Best-case…” His jaw tightens, and he leans in, eyes darting between hers as if he’s trying to read the truth there. “What’s the worst-case scenario, Rey?”</p><p>She shakes her head. Her throat feels thick.</p><p>“Rey,” he repeats urgently. “Tell me.”</p><p>“He…” She swallows hard, then tries again. “He’ll kill me. Or you. Or both of us, for all I know.”</p><p>Ben goes still. It’s hard to tell in the dimly lit room, but his face looks paler than normal. “He said that?”</p><p>A bitter, twisted sound comes out of Rey’s mouth, something like a laugh mixed with an anguished cry. “He says it’ll play well with the voters. The grieving grandfather…”</p><p>“No,” Ben says firmly. He grabs Rey and hauls her into his lap. Her legs are split over his, and his hand comes up to press her head against his shoulder. The white fabric of his shirt is soft under her cheek. “He can’t do that, Rey.”</p><p>“He can,” she says, voice watery. She’s still crying, her tears sinking into his shirt. She’s ruining the fabric, and her first panicked thought is that someone might see. “He can do whatever he wants—”</p><p>“He can’t,” Ben repeats. “He’s not a god, Rey. I’ll tell my parents—we can build a case against him. Take this to the media.”</p><p>She sobs and clings to him, fingers woven into his hair. “And what happens to me?” she asks brokenly. “I’ll go back to the streets. I’ll be nothing again.”</p><p>“You won’t end up on the streets." His lips press against her temple. “I won’t let that happen.”</p><p>“So what, I live off your charity forever? Always worried he’s going to find a way to hurt me?”</p><p>“It wouldn’t be forever,” Ben says. “You’re smart—you’ll get a job. And we’ll hire security. Whatever it takes.”</p><p>She shakes her head and buries her face deeper into his shirt.</p><p>He strokes her hair soothingly while she cries. “Talk to me,” he says. “Tell me what’s going on in your head.”</p><p>“I just…” Rey takes a deep breath, or as deep of a breath as she can manage while her nose is pressed so close to him. The scent of his skin, his deodorant, and his cologne is familiar and soothing, and she inhales again to get more of it in her lungs. “I’ve always been at the mercy of other people,” she says. “People who don’t hesitate to hurt me. And… and at least here I’m being fed. At least here I don’t have to worry about dying of neglect or malnutrition.” She huffs against him. “At least, I wasn’t worried about dying until tonight.”</p><p>Ben holds her tight. “Has he… hurt you? Already?”</p><p>Rey shakes her head. “Not much,” she says. “Just a few bruises if he grabs me too hard.”</p><p>“Rey.” He shifts back her until she’s looking straight at him. “That counts as hurting someone. If it’s on purpose and you don’t want it, that’s abuse.”</p><p>“But he hasn’t hit me or anything.”</p><p>Ben swears under his breath, then tugs her back into his embrace. “Not all abuse involves hitting. He’s threatened you. He belittles you and insults you. He bruises you, for fuck’s sake. And now you’re telling me he threatened to kill you, and you don’t think he’s fucking abusive?”</p><p>“Not just me,” Rey says. “He threatened you, too.”</p><p>“I know,” Ben says. “And I’m not worried about me, because I can tell my mother and she’ll get protection if it’s needed, and because I’m going to do everything I can to put this sick fuck in jail, or at least get him ostracized from the community forever. I’m not the one who has to live with him.”</p><p>Rey sighs and melts into him even more. “It’s hard,” she admits. “I know I should be grateful for the clothes and the food and having a bed—”</p><p>“Fuck gratitude,” Ben interrupts. “If he’s hurting you, he doesn’t get points for giving you expensive things. And a bed, are you kidding me? That’s the bare minimum when you’re caring for another person, Rey.”</p><p>More tears squeeze out of her eyes. “I wouldn't know,” she whispers, and then she starts crying harder.</p><p>“Oh, sweetheart.” He holds her while she sobs, cradling her to his chest, murmuring soothing words. About how she shouldn’t be treated like this, about how amazing she is, about how she deserves the world.</p><p>Rey soaks in his comfort like a drought-withered plant feeling the first drops of rain. She clings to him, crying out her frustration and despair for all the lives that should have been, for the life she still wants and fears she’ll never have. It isn’t fair to exchange one prison for another. It isn’t fair to be hurt again and again. And it isn’t fair, now that she’s finally found something she wants that she can actually have, for it to be ripped away from her.</p><p>She finally quiets, a last few sobs hiccuping out of her. “Your shirt,” she mumbles. “I’m sorry, it’s probably ruined—”</p><p>“I don’t care about my shirt,” Ben says. “I care about you.”</p><p>She sniffles and pulls back to look up at him. Her face is undoubtedly blotchy and shiny from her tears, but he stares at her like she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. “You do?” she whispers.</p><p>“Why do you think I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy?” His lips quirk a little. “Why do you think I’ve been having sex with you in closets?”</p><p>“Because it’s taboo, and that’s exciting?”</p><p>“Rey.” He stares at her seriously. “Is that why you’re doing it with me?”</p><p>She shakes her head.</p><p>“Good,” he says. “So please believe me when I say I want to be with you. In public, not just in secret. I love you, Rey.”</p><p>She gasps. No one’s ever said that to her before. When she speaks again, her voice shakes. “I love you, too.”</p><p>“Good.” He kisses her, and Rey tastes the salt of her tears between their lips. It’s a simple kiss, short and sweet, but her heart flutters wildly at the contact.</p><p>He breaks away and smiles at her. “I don’t want to be apart from you ever again.”</p><p>“I don’t, either.” She chews on her lower lip, torn between joy and despair. Joy that she’s found him and that he’s hers; despair that he could be taken from her at any moment. “But what do we do?”</p><p>“First,” Ben says firmly, “you’re not going back to Sheev’s house tonight.”</p><p>Panic stirs again. “But he’ll punish me—”</p><p>“No, he won’t. Not if you’re with me. We’ll get security.”</p><p>“Even with security, what’s going to stop him from hurting us later?”</p><p>“Leave that to me,” he says. He cups her face in his hands and stares at her. “Do you trust me, Rey?”</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>“And are you willing to be with me publicly, even if there’s a bit of a scandal?”</p><p>“But if Sheev—”</p><p>“Forget Sheev,” he says. “If you weren’t worried about him, would you worry about a scandal?”</p><p>“No,” Rey says vehemently. “I don’t care about a scandal. I just want you.”</p><p>A grin breaks out over his face. “Then I’m going to make a few phone calls. We’ll get you out of this, Rey. I promise.”</p><p>He sounds so confident, she has no choice but to believe him. She nods, and with that small motion, a huge weight lifts off her shoulders.</p><p>An hour later, she lies curled on her side, watching Ben talk on the phone to his mother. She’s wrapped in one of the motel’s tatty bathrobes, but she’s cozier than she remembers being in recent memory.</p><p>Still, she’s aware of the green numbers on the alarm clock ticking ever onward. It’s now twenty minutes past when she was supposed to be home. Her cell phone has been buzzing non-stop—first Sheev’s PA, then the housemaid, then finally the man himself. After that last call, Ben had her turn it off.</p><p>She feels terrified and excited all at once. It reminds her of when she jumped off a cliff into the sea on some long-ago childhood excursion. There was a moment of breathless weightlessness at the top of her arc, a split second of floating between sea and sky. With the sun sparking off the water and the cool breeze in her face, it was the closest to flying Rey would ever get. The sickening swoop of her stomach came immediately after, of course, and then the plunge into the frigid water, but she never forgot that feeling.</p><p>Now, as she hovers at the peak of her leap into a new life, she wonders when that drop will come. If it will hurt when she hits the water.</p><p>“Yes, mom, I know.” Ben rolls his eyes, mouthing something as if mimicking whatever his mother is saying. “Yes, I’ll bring her over. Yes, Sunday dinner. Fine. Whatever. Oh my God, <em> please </em> don’t ask her that.”</p><p>Rey smothers her chuckle in the pillow. Sheev talks about Leia Organa like she’s the boogeyman, but from listening in on this conversation, it’s obvious that she’s a good person and a caring mother. “She’s overbearing,” Ben grumbled to Rey once early in their relationship, but since Leia Organa’s overbearingness is getting a security detail sent to their motel immediately, as well as the ear of a prominent reporter, Rey can’t complain. Leia’s overbearing in the right way, and Rey, who has only experienced the wrong way, wants to absorb every second of it.</p><p>“Yes, mom. Yes. Thank you. Yes, I appreciate it. Yes, I owe you… oh my God, do <em>not</em> say grandkids.” At that, Rey snorts, and Ben glares at her. The frown doesn’t last long, though. He shakes his head and grins. “All right. Yes, I understand. Now, if you don’t mind, your security detail is getting here in an hour, and I have something I need to do. None of your business, is what. Goodbye, mom. Goodbye. Goodbye. I’m hanging up now.” He slams the receiver down, then buries his head in his hands, tugging at his loose, dark locks. “That woman is impossible,” he mutters.</p><p>“Is everything okay?” Rey asks, scooting closer to him.</p><p>He looks down at her and smiles. “Yes, everything’s fine. She’s just… a lot.”</p><p>“She sounds great.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, that’s just because she hasn’t interrogated you about grandchildren every Sunday dinner for the last five years. I hope you’re ready for that, by the way.”</p><p>Rey’s heart skips a beat. “She wants me to come?”</p><p>Ben shifts down until he’s lying facing her on the bed. His shirt is still open, although the bow tie has long since been flung elsewhere. “It’s mandatory, I’m afraid.” His lips quirk in that adorable smile that captured her attention from the start. “As long as you’ll have me, we’ll be going to every Sunday dinner she can wring out of us.”</p><p>“I’d like that,” Rey says. She reaches out and cups his face. “And I will have you. As long as you’ll have me.”</p><p>“Sweetheart,” he says, “I hate to break it to you, but that may just be forever.”</p><p>Rey scoots closer, until she’s lying against him with his arm wrapped around her and her lips hovering an inch from his. “What did you need to do?” she asks. “Before security comes.”</p><p>He grins. “I think you know.”</p><p>Then their lips are pressed together in a sweet, slow kiss. Rey relaxes into him, opening her mouth to welcome the sweep of his tongue. For once, there’s no urgency to the embrace. She doesn’t need to fear anyone walking in on them. She doesn’t have to be afraid her grandfather will find out what she’s doing. The worst thing already happened, and now it’s just her and Ben, finding their way forward together.</p><p>She pushes at his shirt, wanting to feel more of his skin, and he obliges by stripping it off. Then he removes her bathrobe, kissing every inch of skin as he slowly parts the fabric. He ends at her belly, warm breath gusting over her pubic hair. “Now,” he says, looking up at her with a devilish gleam in his eyes, “I’m going to really take my time with you.”</p><p>He slings her legs over his shoulders and buries his head between her thighs. The first lick is magic, and Rey moans and arches her back in response. Ben kisses her pussy with the same fiery, exacting passion he brought to her lips. He leaves no part of her unexplored, nothing untasted. His tongue delves inside her, and when it’s not enough, his fingers follow. Rey writhes under the touch, gasping as he sucks her clit and slides two fingers in and out of her in a slow, sensual rhythm. “More,” she says, but for once, it isn’t a plea to go faster out of fear. Her orgasm is building quickly, and she needs more stimulation to send her over the edge.</p><p>Ben obeys, licking and sucking her clit hard and fast. His fingers crook, dragging over her sensitive inner wall with every stroke. Rey grips his hair, hanging on as she grinds against his face. Then she’s coming, her body seizing up as she lurches off the bed. Her pussy throbs around his fingers, and he keeps licking and touching her, working her through the endless spasms.</p><p>She collapses with a gasp. “Oh my God,” she mutters, nearly delirious. It’s the best orgasm she’s had with him yet.</p><p>He crawls up her body, wiping his mouth on his forearm. “I told you it’s better to take our time.”</p><p>Rey giggles and reaches for him. “Do we have to go slow for this next part?” she asks. “Or can I have you inside me?”</p><p>“You can<em> definitely </em> have me inside you,” he says, moving off her to strip off his slacks, socks, and underwear. Then he settles back between her thighs, his erection brushing against her arousal-slicked curls. “But I’m still going to take my time.”</p><p>“Please,” Rey whispers, looking up into his beautiful, kind brown eyes. “Make love to me.”</p><p>He kisses her, slow and lingering. “I will,” he promises against her lips.</p><p>Then he’s reaching between them to position himself. The tip of his cock notches in her entrance, and Rey sighs with relief. He starts sliding in, and there’s no pain this time, just a wet, smooth glide and a delicious stretching sensation. She’s wet and open, relaxed from her orgasm, and there’s no pressure to go too fast.</p><p>“So good,” she murmurs as he bottoms out. She presses frantic kisses to his neck and shoulder. </p><p>He stills, panting. “Are you all right?” he asks. He asks this every time, and Rey is grateful for his continuing thoughtfulness.</p><p>She tests the fit, squeezing her inner muscles around him and shifting her hips. “Yes,” she says when all she feels is pleasure. “It’s perfect.”</p><p>He starts moving, and Rey realizes she was wrong. It wasn’t perfect before. <em> Now </em> it’s perfect. He’s long and thick, filling her up completely, and every time he surges in, he brushes over a soft, sensitive spot that has her groaning and tipping her hips up for more.</p><p>“I love you,” he pants. He’s propped up on his elbows, looking down at her with that burning, passionate gaze that first captured her imagination. Now, though, he’s captured her heart.</p><p>“I love you, too.” She wraps her arms around him and tugs him down so their bodies are flush against each other. He pants into her ear, and she kisses and nips his shoulder. The rhythm is building, growing more intense, but it isn’t a frantic race to the finish. They have time.</p><p>She doesn’t realize she said the words out loud until Ben answers. “We do have time,” he says. He’s really moving now, powerful body slamming into her like waves pounding a beach, but his voice is soft in her ear. “A lifetime, Rey.”</p><p>Rey tips over the edge again, her pussy fluttering around him while she cries out and clings to him for dear life. He grunts and thrusts faster, and then he’s shaking above her, his face buried in her neck as he comes.</p><p>They lie tangled together afterwards, neither of them willing to move to go to the bathroom or clean up. Ben cradles her in his strong arms, and as Rey rests her cheek on his chest, listening to the pound of his heart, she realizes she feels truly safe for the first time in her life.</p><p>“What next?” she asks softly.</p><p>He yawns. “Well, in about ten minutes I’ll need to go out and talk to security, but I’ll be damned if I let you leave this bed. They can keep an eye out, and we’ll talk to the reporter in the morning.”</p><p>Rey bites her lip, worrying it between her teeth. “What if he doesn’t believe me?”</p><p>“He will,” Ben promises. “Besides, want to know what my mom just told me?” Rey nods against his chest, and Ben continues. “Apparently she’s been working with this reporter and a few lawyers to build a case against him for years. Gathering accounts of sexual harassment, abuse of staff, insider trading… so many things.”</p><p>Rey sits up, worry forgotten under a wave of excitement. “Really?”</p><p>He nods, smiling up at her. “She had a feeling he’d run for president one of these days, so she’s been making plans. The story was going to break next month, but they’re speeding it up to get you out of there.”</p><p>Rey presses a hand to her chest to feel her racing pulse. “So he’s going to jail?”</p><p>“I hope so.” Ben strokes a hand down her side, then rests it at her hip. “But whatever happens, once the story breaks, he can’t hurt you anymore. It would be seen as retaliation.” His face grows serious. “I won’t lie—it’s going to be tough. You’ll be under a lot of scrutiny. Assholes on the internet will say all kinds of things. But in the end…”</p><p>“I’ll be free,” Rey says simply.</p><p>He nods. “And no matter what, you’ll have me.”</p><p>“Good.” Rey snuggles back into his side. “You’re the first person who’s ever truly been mine.”</p><p>“I’m happy to belong to you.” A knock sounds at the door, and he groans. “I guess I should put some clothes on to talk to security.” He shifts out of bed, then leans down to press a kiss to Rey’s forehead. “Sleep, sweetheart. The dawn’s coming soon.”</p><p><em>Yes, </em> Rey thinks as she drifts off, only half-aware of the soft conversation at the door. <em> It really is. </em></p>
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